My neighbours

Here is Perro Blanco. He is one of my neighbours. He is in charge of the horse stables across the road. We are not friends.

When I first adopted master and mistress I was frightened of him because he always barked at me through the fence.

He still barks at me but I am bigger now, and more confident, so sometimes I bark back. And I always have master or mistress to protect me.

If I am feeling mischievous I lift my leg and have a little pee pee through the fence on his head. Perro Blanco always looks so puzzled and has to shake himself. Master nearly falls over laughing.

I don’t know if he has a name, but lots of dogs round here don’t have a name, they get called by their colour, so he is white dog. Or El Malo, the bad one. Although master and mistress say he is a good guard dog for the finca, because most people and everydog (except me of course) are frightened of him. By the way my ear used to flop like his before mistress made it better.

Our human neighbours next door have a little dog called Lassie. She is not very friendly to any dog or any people either. When I found master and mistress the man next door said I wasn’t worth anything because I was a street dog. I was very upset.

Master stood up for me and said what a fine dog I was, and walked off with his nose in the air. Now the man next door says I am a big tough dog, a rascal, and he ruffles my fur. But we haven’t forgotten what he said before.

Because we live on the corner we have neighbours just over the side road. Luna (a Belgian Shepherd) and Engordo (I think he is really called Loulou not Fatty), a small dog. I am friends with them, but mistress as usual has not taken pix of them yet. They live with Carlo and his cats and his chickens. His cats change but they are always large and furry. I don’t mind them too much as they don’t play The Runaway Game. They don’t invade my space and I leave them alone too.

Behind Carlo lives Tia Negra. Master and mistress call her that because when they arrived her hair was black and she is Carlo’s auntie. (Hence auntie black hair). She is really called Maria, but everyone round here is called Maria. When I was on the streets she used to feed me, and not just stale bread either. She is nice.

Down the street there is a very large plot of land, well, large for round here. The owner has a huge tractor and some little dogs. They play The Runaway Game and I want to chase them. Here is one of them running away, heheheh.

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3 comments on “My neighbours”

i know you are not overly fond of cats, but i was encouraged to learn that you tolerated the cats of your neighbours. so i thought i would share about a cat we used to have. she was black in colour, and we strongly suspect that she was a british shorthair. she adopted us when she was about three, and although she never revealed her story to us (i personally think she was happy that it was behind her), she was very traumatized and easily frightened when she first moved in. every drawer door that shut, every slight bang or noise would send her under a chair for cover.

but she learned to trust us and she got assertive too. especially if we had visitors who sat on her chair. she did not scratch, and she did not talk. but could she ever look at them. daggers for eyes she could have. and even when we did not have visitors. she was the boss. and we knew it. and she knew that we knew it. and all was well.

i am enjoying your blog posts, so i best continue with a few more before i call it a day.

You can long or short comments or both, whatever you want. Pay no attention to what Misery says, no-one else does and this is my blog and I will even let you write about cats. Well I do, so no reason why you shouldn’t.